


Hands

by Aragem



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Holding Hands, Shipping, Tenderness, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 00:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20183302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aragem/pseuds/Aragem
Summary: Entrapta has a special request to make of Hordak.For updates and more, go to my Tumblr page: RebelCourtesan





	Hands

She was staring at him again. He felt it like a solid weight on his back. The violet eyes could stare at anything with the intensity of a star’s corona. He continued modifying the panels until the intensity grew to an intolerable level. 

“Yes?” He turned to see a pair of purple eyes only inches from his own. Years of intense combat training compelled him to seize the target by the throat and neutralize it, but recognition stilled his hands. He stepped back hard enough to bump his spine against the table and jolt the panels.

She was suspending herself from the piping that interlaced the ceiling. “Was I bothering you? Sorry!” Dipping her head in apology, she drew back like a marionette on strings and returned to her work station. 

She wasn’t one to leave her work station unless something distracted her. Thus far, work on the portal had encapsulated her purpose that she rarely spoke of anything else. Unless it had to do with him. Since the other day, her focus had been split between the portal and him. When she wasn’t running tests or tinkering, she was adjusting his new suit or trying to feed him tiny food. 

He couldn't fathom the appeal of such a novelty and said as much. “You would have to eat a hundred of these to suffice as a meal.”

“But they’re so cute!” She declared delivering the tray of minuscule sandwiches on the tray. “There’s grill cheese here and then there a sub. Oh, and tuna!”

Shortly after Entrapta joined the Horde she approved the annexation of Dryl. Her staff joined her in the Fright Zone to tend to her needs. Among them was a female cook that prepared her Princess’s preferred meals. Now she was eager to share what she believed to be her bounty. 

It was futile to tell her that his sense of taste was very diminished compared to hers. Taste buds weren’t necessary for the consumption of nutrition. Yet, he ate the bits of food if only to stop her from pushing it into his mouth. Later, he would supplement his diet with ration meal bars. 

Now it seemed there was something else about him that has caught her fascination. and until he figured out what it was and appease it somehow, there would be no peace. He wasn’t one to cave in to the demands of others as he was of the superior race and the leader of the Horde, but Entrapta’s ways . . . were difficult to traverse. If he ordered her to do something, she did it right away as the natural order within the Horde. When she asked something of him, he could refuse, but it was an onerous task to do so. 

It was because she laid out a sound logic of why something should be. Like granting a task to an individual proven to be inept, but has qualities that made them suited for the task. Her arguments were impossible to refute without coming across as obstinate. And there were her eyes, how they looked at him with disappointment when he did refuse a request.

It was a matter of picking his battles carefully in dealing with her. Now she had another request for him. The sooner he discovered what it is, the more advantage he would have in dealing with it. 

“Is there something you wish to discuss?” he sighed setting down the tools.

“Only if you’re not busy with the panels!” Entrapta moved across the room. Her hair grasped the pipes with the ease of a primate. “They’re needed to stabilize the energy flow in the auxiliary mods I installed yesterday.”

“They can wait for a moment,” he said with a tone that indicated that her request should take only a moment of his time.

Entrapta, who usually barged into a subject she found important, hesitated. Her hair suspended her almost on face level with him. She fidgeted with her hair whispered as a few locks twisted and untwisted. He cocked an eye ridge, his curiosity piqued by her pause.

“There’s something I ways wanted to try, but the opportunity never presented itself,” Entrapta launched into her usual ramble. “I never had a chance to ask Adora because Catra kidnapped Bow and Glimmer and then I was abandoned. Catra might have wanted to do it with Adora instead of me and Scorpia might be painful with her claws. So since we’re friends I thought it would be good to do it with you.”

By this time both of Hordak’s brow ridges had gone up and his eyes were round rubies. He had heard of such interactions happening among the soldiers. Early on in his rule, he had forbidden it among his soldiers. They were distractions that led to soldiers out of fighting order and more civilians. However, it seemed that outlawing it made it all the more appealing. He realized that lesser beings had visceral needs that served the purpose of stress relief.

Never before had he considered that anyone would want such an interaction with him. Most of the soldiers were primitives with superstitious nonsense. Many believed him a phantom or a monster of the undead due to his appearance. He never any of the primitives approaching him with such a request and it was Entrapta of all people . . .

This was Entrapta before him. He had learned she held a much different perception from the natives and himself for that matter.

“What are you requesting of me?” Hordak said plainly. 

“I want to hold hands!” Entrapta announced almost sweeping into his personal space. “Its something friends do! I always wanted to try it, but someone told me it was weird to ask for, but since we’re friends . . .”

Hordak blinked. “Hold hands?”

“Yes! I’ve made many observations on this social interaction. It’s a universal sign of affection between family, friends, and pairings. Young children do it all the time with their parents and each other.”

“You’ve never done this with your parents?” Hordak recovered from his surprise but needed a little more time to assess the situation.

“My parents died when I was really little,” Entrapta admitted, almost deflating. Her hair slowly dipped her down until her shoes almost touched the floor. “I held hands with robots lots of times, but they’re inorganic. I might get a different reaction if I do it with someone has biological functions. Did you ever engage in it with Horde Prime?”

“No, never,” Hordak deadpanned. The Horde was above such displays of affection. If hands were free to hold each other, then they should be filled with weapons or tools to fight or work.

“Do you want to attempt this with me?” She had that hopeful look in her eyes that confused his resolve. If he refused the look would become painful to see. 

“For how long?” 

“I calculate effects could take as little as two minutes, but five minutes would be a safe amount of time.” She was almost glowing with delight. 

He held out his hand. “Let’s get started then.”

She paused, blinking at his open hand. “Alright, give me one moment.”

He waited, steering his thoughts away from how every second they waste with this nonsense was a time they could spend on the portal. Entrapta gingerly sat down on the table next to him with the care of one about to enter a potential death trap. Then with the greatest care, she laid her gloved hand in his. 

He started a clock in his head and waited. 

Ten seconds later, Entrapta asked, “Are you feeling any effects?”

“No.”

Twenty seconds. “Should we swing our hands? I’ve seen others do it . . .”

“No, this is fine.”

Half a minute in, Entrapta was monologuing into her recorder. “After thirty seconds, I’ve noted my palm becoming moist and warm from the pressure of subjects hand . . .”

“Subject?” He quirked an eye at her. 

“Lord Hordak,” Entrapta quickly corrected. “I have observed other subjects communicating while holding hands. I shall incorporate communications into this procedure with overheard topics.” Lowering the recorder, she looked at him and inquired, “How was your day?”

She should know how his day has been. They’ve both been in this lab for the last sixteen hours. “Busy,” he said as a slight reminder that had things to do. 

“My day was great! I got to work with my lab partner and we’re making progress every day!” 

“I know,” he replied dryly. Yet, he had to grant her that. They had made more progress within the last few weeks than he ever had in all the years he had been on this mudball. 

“Great! So you won’t have a tizzy if something breaks again.”

“I don’t have tizzies,” He said checking his clock. One minute and twenty seconds down in this experiment.

There was a whirring sound from the corner of the room. Emily, Entrapta’s pet drone, was spinning in place with the Imp atop making twittering noises. When the drone came to a sudden halt, the Imp was nearly tilted off. A quick spread of its wings righted it and it made more tittering noises.

“Awww! Emily made a friend too!” Entrapta pointed at them. “They’re playing!”

It was more complicated than that. Emily was original coding had been that of a military drone. Entrapta merely recoded and added some of her code own until it had an advanced form of AI. The Imp had higher mental functions for decision making which is prudent for a spy. They simply do not ‘play’.

Yet, the Imp had a smile on its round face with large amber eyes bright and energetic. There was a whimsical chime emitting from the drone as it spun so fast they became a white and black blur.

“Did you playback when you were part of the Horde?” 

She still didn’t understand the Horde, the true Horde. Being a master race they were above such childish ways when they were focused on passing tests. Tests of physical feats, combat, science, piloting, and warfare tactics. All were useful in weeding out the weakest among them while cultivating the strong. And he had excelled at them all. The competition had been fierce and more than once he had to watch his back for a rivalry that turned dangerous.

“There had been games, but not the ones you would consider play,” Hordak admitted carefully. “These serve the purpose of testing and strengthening us. To mold us into soldiers with intellectual minds.”

“What kind of games?” Entrapta almost swaddled him in her hair, always eager for new information. 

“Strategy games, obstacle courses, and puzzles were what we had. Training, studies, and piloting simulations were used to pass the time. If we weren’t improving ourselves or proving our worth then our time was wasted.”

“Was any of it fun?”

Fun? How can it be considered fun if your life and rank were on the line? Every loss bumped you further down in score while every win secured your place in the Horde. Failures were sent to die on the front line. Those who proved themselves were promoted. Rising in rank to become closer to Horde Prime Himself and he had been His right-hand man. That is until his defect made itself known.

“It was fun if you win,” he decided to tell her.

“Will you teach me how to play a game?”

He considered it and nodded, “Yes, if time permits. There’s a strategy game where you attempt to corner your opponent’s pieces. You must utilize your forces strengths while predicting your opponent's battle plan.”

“Fascinating,” Entrapta raved. “Are you good at playing it?”

He gave her a smile that showed a hit of crimson teeth. “The best.”

“I used to play with puzzles until I did my first experiment. It’s like every experiment is a puzzle to solve. Like the portal! We’re trying to fit the pieces together to come up with a favorable result. It’s fun! We’re having so much fun together!” 

He hardly found it fun before. It had been years of frustration and despair with each failure was thrown in his face. He was the verge of resigning himself to ruling this single planet. Then Entrapta came and the progress comes leaps and bounds. It as vitalizing to have come too far as so many setbacks.

“Working with you is pleasant,” Hordak agreed. 

“Hordak, I think we’re past five minutes.”

He had realized he was still holding her hand until her fingers wriggled against his palm. They let go, though slowly, almost as if they didn’t wish to part. 

“We should get back to work,” Hordak said wondering how much time had passed. He had lost count of the minutes and there had been times when he had drifted off, remembering the Horde. 

“Alright. I’ll compile my findings into data later. It was . . . good to hold hands. I liked it.”

Hordak watched her glide across the room and found the space next to him that she had occupied empty. “So did I.”


End file.
